45 minutes in a car with Sam, Sanders, and Cam at 6 am is possibly the most infuriating experience of my life. Not only were Cam and Sanders having arm wrestles the whole time, Sam took up the pastime of pulling my hair to see how long before I snapped.
I help it together for a good 20 before I turned around and slapped her hand midair. Apparently Cam and Sanders took bets on it and Sanders was only off by 3 minutes.
Greyson didn't say a single word the entire time. Literally the whole time. I'm not complaining though because if he had said something, it probably would have been like "I hate you all" or "I'll drive off a cliff so you guys will shut up." He did scowl and glare at them through the rear view mirror a lot though.
By the time we pull into the parking lot outside the national park, I've popped two Advil's, but it's all for the experience right? Right. Maybe.
The parking lots pretty full for a Tuesday morning, but with it being weirdly warm and clear sky's, I guess it makes sense. Greyson pulls into a spot that had me pressing an imaginary break because he was this close to hitting the car beside him, and we all get ready to go.
"Okay, first things first, everyone has to go to the bathroom, I don't care if you don't have to pee. You're going, I'm not waiting for any pee breaks in the trail." Sam claps her hands like a school teacher as she climbs out of the truck and makes a beeline for the public bathrooms, yelling over her shoulder, "And I hope you all brought lots of water and food because we're gonna be gone for at least 3 hours."
Great, so this is turning—wait 3 hours?
"Sam! I have a lecture at 12 that you said we'd have lots of time to get back for!" I jump out of the car, narrowly avoiding hitting the blue Honda parked beside us. Oops.
"Oh it's fine, we'll be back by then, I'm sure of it." She waves a dismissive hand and yells at us yet again to go pee. What a mom.
"We'll leave by 10:30." Greyson stands behind me, looking out towards the trials and throwing a backpack over his shoulder which reminds me I need my water from in his truck.
I still don't understand why he has a truck and a motorcycle. If he doesn't like the wind or something why get a motorcycle to begin with? I remember when I was a freshman and I first heard about him and how he had a motorcycle, how I thought he was a weirdo, because what kind of 20 year old college guy gets a motorcycle.
I quickly run the short distance back to the truck and pull the handle, but it doesn't open. Greyson's gone when I turn around and I consider grabbing a rock and throwing in through a window, but that might get me abandoned, so I opt for calling him.
He picks up on the first ring.
"What?" Grumpy much?
"Your trucks locked and I need my water and I don't know where you are. Can you come unlock it?"
"No? Why not?"
I hear the doors click unlocked and pull the phone away from my ear. Without turning, I know he's standing behind me but I refuse to acknowledge him or say thank you because he's annoying me. I might still whisper a small thank you, but only because I was raise to be a nice person with good manners, unlike some people.
"Hurry up you two! We're burning day light." Sanders yells at us from across the parking lot and I roll my eyes at his stupidity.
YOU ARE READING
Kennedy is a junior at University of Washington-Seattle campus, and is ready to move on with her life. But with no desire to go into finance and a dream to start writing books, she doesn't know what her future will hold. Or who. Greyson Kingsley, a...